


from ingolstadt, with love

by oddlyqueer



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Victor Frankenstein, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period Typical Attitudes, Pre-Creature, Trans Male Character, Trans Victor Frankenstein, am i really the first to use that tag?, before frankenstein makes his little dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 23:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oddlyqueer/pseuds/oddlyqueer
Summary: i wrote this entirely on a whim, enabled by a dear friend from the gothic literature discord server i spend all of my free time on. gansey, if you're here, this is entirely your fault.if you followed me for les mis or good omens, i am incredibly sorry.





	from ingolstadt, with love

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this entirely on a whim, enabled by a dear friend from the gothic literature discord server i spend all of my free time on. gansey, if you're here, this is entirely your fault.
> 
> if you followed me for les mis or good omens, i am incredibly sorry.

The night was a cold one, and Henry was glad he wasn’t out in it. He was instead with Elizabeth and Justine by the fire at the Frankensteins’ manor. They had been in sore need of company in recent times, with the younger children on winter holiday with their father and with Victor away at university. This was the reason he had been invited to stay—he was good company, and they had plenty of space to spare. 

“I’m so glad that Christmas is coming,” Elizabeth said, taking another sip of her tea. “It always brings such happy memories with it. I only wish that we could celebrate it with Victor. It is such a pity that he must be so far away at Ingolstadt. I miss him dearly.”

Justine nodded. “When you two were children, I remember that you were never apart. It must be so strange not seeing him all the time.”

“I know he is happy, though,” she said. “He always wanted to go to university, even when he was—” Elizabeth paused. “Even before,” she amended quickly. 

Henry sighed and looked out the window, watching the snow swirl over the estate. It was really storming outside, and had been for quite some time. The snowdrifts were almost up to the windows. Just the thought of it made him cold, and he shivered, wrapping the blanket he wore more tightly around himself. He didn’t envy anyone who was out in that storm. 

Luckily, he was here, with two of the people he would most like to be spending the holidays with. Of course, if Victor had been there, it would have been all the better, but he knew that could not happen. 

Victor had thrown himself into his studies with a passion since Ingolstadt accepted him. He had been so proud and so determined not to disappoint that he’d read every required book before even leaving for school. It was a bit worrying, but most things about Victor were a bit worrying, and his study habits most of all. Now that he was at school, he would be more regulated, Henry supposed. He didn’t like thinking of the alternative, of Victor being enabled to stay up for long hours beyond what was required, of his health being pushed aside in favor of learning more about the world. That did seem more likely, if he actually thought about it, but he tried not to consider that as an option.

“Henry? Are you still here, or are you daydreaming again?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I was just thinking of Victor.”

“We all miss him,” Justine said, her hand resting on Elizabeth’s. 

Henry had noticed that the two of them were increasingly close lately. He would have ignored it, for the most part, and chalked it up to being out of necessity after Elizabeth’s mother died, if he had not walked in on them in a rather compromising position several days prior. They had not spoken of the incident since it happened, and Henry didn’t plan on telling anyone. He was sure that they would extend the same courtesy to him if they ever chanced upon him with—

With someone else.

“You seem rather distant today, Henry,” Elizabeth said, looking at him with slight concern. “If you have other matters to attend to, we can—”

“No, that’s quite alright. I’m sorry. I’ve just been worried about Victor, since he’s been gone. You know how he gets when he has a project to work on, and if university is giving him a lot of work to do, I fear that he’s not taking care of himself.”

Elizabeth nodded solemnly, blonde curls moving about her face. “I know. I’ve been worried, too. But we can’t control him, we can only wait for him to write and go to visit when we can.”

All of a sudden, the door to the manor flew open, bringing with it a burst of cold air and snow. Though they were in the parlor, the chill reached them, and they could hear the howl of the wind outside. 

“What on earth—who would travel in these conditions?” Justine looked almost angry. Whoever was here was intruding on her time with Elizabeth, and she was not pleased.

“Elizabeth!” came the broken cry from the front room. Henry’s heart stopped. He knew that voice.

She sat bolt upright, dropping her teacup onto the floor and rushing out of the room. Justine followed close behind her, and Henry soon after, pulling the blanket from his shoulders. If he had been traveling in such awful conditions, he’d need it much more than Henry did.

In the foyer was Victor, on his knees, being attended by two of the servants, who looked about as worried as Henry felt. Victor was drenched from head to toe, his glasses had frosted over, and he was shivering violently, as he was not wearing appropriate clothing for the weather. In fact, he had only a thin coat on over his clothing to keep him warm, and judging from how blue his lips were, it was not doing an adequate job of that. Henry suddenly noticed that his hair had streaks of grey running through it that hadn’t been there before university. He was much thinner, too—almost frighteningly so, and weak, too. He could barely support himself. School had obviously not been kind to him.

Sometimes Henry  _ hated _ being right with a passion.

“Oh God, Victor, what happened to you?” Justine said, concern written all over her face. 

“Never mind that for now,” Elizabeth said sharply, wiping off Victor’s hair with one hand. She drew back quickly. “You’re freezing! Here, help me carry him into the parlor to the fire.” 

Justine quickly knelt down beside him, helping him to stand, and led him to the parlor. He was weak, that was certainly true, and he looked to be frostbitten in several places. 

Henry felt a sudden pain in his chest—how on earth had he gotten here? There would not be any cabs running to the manor itself, and in this weather, they would not be running at all. He bit his lip as he realized what must have happened. If he had walked all this way—but from where? The train station, most likely, if there was no other transportation. That would have been alright earlier in the day, but now that it was cold, he’d have walked several miles with only that coat to protect him. 

He suddenly had a very strong urge to force Victor to stay here and never let him out of his sight again.

“Th-thank you,” Victor said as Justine handed him a blanket. He stared into the fire with an unreadable expression, his hair dripping down onto his face. 

“As soon as you’re warmed up a bit more, we’ll get you into some dry clothes,” Elizabeth said. “Here—I’ll go get them for you, you can just change here. No need for you to exert yourself more than is necessary.”

Victor nodded, pulling the blanket even more tightly around himself. He was barely visible from underneath it, and some of the moisture from his clothes was leaching into it, forming a puddle underneath him on the rug.

Henry sat down beside him and draped his blanket over Victor’s shoulders as well. This was evidently appreciated, as Victor immediately pulled the blanket around himself and over his head, shivering. Even with the fire and the blankets, he still looked as cold as he had when he’d stumbled in the door. His glasses had at least thawed out, though, and no longer had the frost which had patterned them a few minutes ago. 

“Why are you home? Shouldn’t you be at Ingolstadt, making some sort of revolutionary experiment?”

He tensed at the mention of university. Henry was immediately struck by the feeling that he had done something terribly wrong. This feeling only solidified as Victor teared up, biting down on his lip  _ hard _ and hiding his face in the blankets.

“Victor—”

“Here. Dry clothes,” Elizabeth said, finally returning from Victor’s room. “Come on, stand up. You can’t wear those wet clothes forever.”

Henry turned away politely as Elizabeth helped Victor undress, still worrying about what he had said wrong. If something had gone wrong there, could that be why he had returned home? If so, why did he have none of his belongings with him? He surely must have taken his work with him. It was unlike him not to do so. 

Once he was dressed again, Victor put the blankets back on, still shivering a bit. Elizabeth brushed his still-wet hair out of his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead, a worried expression on his face. 

“Sit by the fire again,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Victor reluctantly complied, kneeling at the hearth with Elizabeth still beside him. Henry felt another pain in his chest—Victor had always been small, but he just seemed so fragile and weak now.

Justine stood beside him, hands folded demurely over her skirts. She looked about as worried as Henry felt. 

“What do you think happened to him?” she said, quietly enough that Victor could not hear. Her eyes were worried and wide. “When I brought him in—I could feel his ribs, Henry. He’s just so thin.”

Henry bit his lip. “I’m scared for him,” he said finally, his voice low and hushed. 

“Me too.”

Elizabeth looked over at them and beckoned for them to join her. Justine nodded and sat behind Victor, wrapping her arms around him. He looked around for a moment, panicked, but after he realized what was going on, he relaxed into her touch.

Henry joined them, taking Victor’s hands between his own, and looked into his eyes, deep brown into bright green. The look on his face—hesitant, worried, scared—made Henry want to hold him all the more. He looked like a lost child. 

Unable to resist any more, Henry put his arms around Victor and pulled him into a hug, holding him close to his chest. Victor looked confused for a moment, but eventually relaxed, laying his head down in Henry’s lap and letting him play with his hair gently. Elizabeth smiled at them both, and winked at Henry so quickly that it was easy to miss. Of course, Henry didn’t miss it, and flushed red at the implications. Elizabeth just smirked and took Justine’s hand, watching the two of them. 

“Victor, can you tell me what’s wrong?” Henry asked carefully, still gently carding his hands through Victor’s hair. He felt him tense, and placed a hand on his shoulder to soothe him, which did nothing of the sort. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, his voice still raspy and broken, most likely from the frigid air outside. “I’m fine.”

“Why aren’t you at university?” Justine said. Henry looked up, trying to warn her not to talk about it—after all, it had seemed a sore subject earlier—but the damage had already been done. Victor sat up, leaning his head on Henry’s shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, trying to brush away the tears that were already starting to form there. He looked down at the fire, evidently uncomfortable.

“They kicked me out,” he said after a long few minutes of silence. He could barely get the words out—this, finally, was what made the tears spill over, and he buried his face in Henry’s shirt. 

“What happened to make them do that?”

Victor was in no state to talk about it, but he wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and sat up again. In a soft voice, he tried to speak, but for a long moment he was unable to. Henry rubbed his back gently, hoping this would calm him down enough so that he could tell them what had happened.

“They found out that I—I wasn’t born as a man,” he said finally, his voice shaking. “My professor—he found the records of my birth, he asked for them by some pretense, and he told the head of the sciences, and  _ he _ told the headmaster… they brought me into the office. The headmaster asked me if it was true, and I—I couldn’t lie. Not to them. So I told them the truth, that I was, and that I had used the sciences to change myself… and they said I had no right to be there. That it was improper. I wasn’t even allowed to finish the term. They sent me out to pack and then ordered me to leave as soon as I was finished. If I even stayed the night, they would… they’d tell the whole school. I didn’t want my classmates to know, so I—I packed.”

“Why don’t you have your things now, then?”

“When I got to the train station, they told me it was too late to send out the luggage, and they would have it sent here tomorrow. I had nowhere to stay, though, so I left. I walked all the way here from the station. Well. I stopped in a shop for a few minutes when it started to snow so I could buy a jacket, but otherwise I just went. I wasn’t going to stay any longer.”

“Victor, that walk is ten miles,” Justine said in shock. “No wonder you’re in such a state—you didn’t even stop to eat?”

He shook his head.

Henry took a deep breath and wrapped his arms more tightly around Victor. His friend had been through so much—humiliation in front of his mentors, being forced to leave the place where he had dreamed of going for his whole life, and of course the ten long miles home. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t  _ fair _ that Victor had to suffer for no reason, just because of how he was born. 

He didn’t notice he was crying until he felt Victor’s hand wipe away his tears.

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth asked, her voice pained. 

“It just isn’t right,” he said, looking down at Victor. Their eyes met, and Henry stared down at Victor desperately. “You’re just—you’re the smartest man I’ve ever known, and if anyone deserves a position at that school, it’s you. You’ve done everything exactly right, and they still force you out for something as trivial as your  _ body _ ?” Victor tensed at the reminder. “I’m sorry. I just hate them so much.”

“We all do,” Justine said, nodding. “But it won’t do to dwell on it. That’ll just make it hurt more.”

“I know,” Victor said, slightly ashamed. He sat up, still clinging to Henry. “I ought to rest. Henry… will you walk me to my room? Please?”

“Of course,” he said, decidedly ignoring Justine and Elizabeth giggling behind him. He wrapped an arm around Victor’s waist—the girls had another fit of barely hidden laughter at this—and helped him up, starting towards the stairs up to the bedrooms. 

As soon as they were at the door, Victor pushed Henry up against the wall and kissed him. Henry flinched, but—though he didn’t understand why—it felt incredibly right. As he melted into the kiss, his hand found its way underneath Victor’s shirt, pulling him even closer.

“Wait,” Victor said, pulling away. His long, dark eyelashes hid his eyes from view for a moment. “Henry—I shouldn’t have—I’m sorry. This was an awful idea.”

“What’s wrong?” Henry clung to Victor, still holding his hands tightly. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I—Henry, I can’t go back to being a woman,” Victor said, tears threatening to spill over once again. His hands were shaking, and he balled them into fists to force them steady. “I won’t. Not even for you, I won’t. I can’t do it.” 

Henry looked at him confusedly. “Why would I want you to—” He paused. “Victor. You can’t possibly—have I made you feel like that? What have I said? Tell me—I’ll never do it again.”

Victor shivered, looking down. “I know it’s my fault—I’m the one who kissed you, after all. I’ve certainly given you hope that I will.”

“Victor—my God, Victor, do you honestly think that was because I see you as female?” He didn’t wait for an answer; he already knew what he would say. “My friend, I do believe that this is the first time that you’ve ever been wrong.”

“What?”

“You seem to think that I love you because of the unfortunate matter of your biology—dear Victor, I love you in spite of it. Have you not seen how I look at men? You could not possibly think that the wrongness of your sex—” Victor winced. “The wrongness of your biology,” Henry amended. “You cannot think that is what makes me love you.” 

The look on his face made it clear that he had been under that impression.

“Oh, my dear, never,” Henry said, brushing the tears from Victor’s face. “I would never ask that of you. In fact, I would struggle to love you like that—if you were lying to everyone, pretending you are something that you are not? I would urge you to return to your true self as soon as you could, for that is how I love you.”

He was ready to continue, to convince him further, but he was interrupted by Victor pulling him in for a tearful kiss. There was an urgency to it, one that he hadn’t felt before, and which indicated that he had dispelled nearly all of the fear surrounding this. 

“God, Henry, I love you,” Victor whispered as they pulled apart, gasping for breath. 

“No, Victor,  _ I _ love  _ you _ ,” he said. Victor went red, a shy smile forming on his face. “You’re so handsome—” he pressed a kiss to Victor’s neck— “and so, so smart—” another kiss to his collarbone— “and so goddamn stubborn sometimes, but I love you.”

Victor gasped, his hands trembling as Henry kissed him more and more deeply. He barely noticed when Henry changed their positions, when he was the one pinned against the wall, when Henry lifted him slightly off the ground for easier access to his lips. He didn’t even notice when Henry untucked his shirt and reached up underneath, tracing the tiny scars that reached over his shoulders and back. 

“Henry—” Victor finally realized what kind of situation they were in. “Henry, what if someone—”

“Who would care?” he said flippantly, diving back in to kiss him softly on the forehead. “Justine? Elizabeth? They’ve no right to judge, and besides, I have leverage over them already.” 

“Someone might see us!” Victor protested as Henry pushed up his shirt, exposing his stomach.

“Let them see,” Henry said, and then kissed Victor again. 

A considerable while later, he let Victor down. He was lightheaded from euphoria, so dizzy he could barely stand. Henry steadied him with one hand, pulling him close to his hip. 

“My Victor,” he said. “If we’re to do that again, you’ll need to get healthier. We can’t have you passing out on us just because I kiss you, can we? You’re far too handsome, I could never resist you, and it would be much more inconvenient for me to be kissing you if you’ve fainted. 

“It’s not because I’m unwell, it’s because you decided to do…  _ that _ … in the middle of the house where anyone could have walked in and seen us,” Victor said sullenly, his face still red. After a moment longer, he looked up at Henry. “You think I’m handsome?”

“Oh, my love, of course I do.”

After that, Victor couldn’t help the smile that came to his lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you very much for reading! i hope you enjoyed my foray into the gothic literature fandom. if you enjoyed it, i would love to hear your thoughts, and kudos are always appreciated—it tells me to write more of this, which i would love to do!


End file.
